


One snowflake in a snowstorm

by sunshine_kitcat (moonkevin)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extended Metaphors, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by The Gift of the Magi - O. Henry, M/M, Metaphors, Poetic, Self-Doubt, Snow, Winter, Yang is sad and mark makes him feel better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-11-02 05:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonkevin/pseuds/sunshine_kitcat
Summary: 29 dollars.A single snowflake falls down. The first of the blanketing snow to cover the cityscape.That’s all I have.A breeze blows by, carrying all the leftover warmth of autumn hidden in the crevices of a cold city.Stupid student loans.-Alternatively, Yangyang just wants to give Mark something for Christmas.





	One snowflake in a snowstorm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Speedy_18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speedy_18/gifts).

> For my beta, the absolute bestest <3

_ 29 dollars. _

A single snowflake falls down. The first of the blanketing snow to cover the cityscape.

_ That’s all I have. _

A breeze blows by, carrying all the leftover warmth of autumn hidden in the crevices of a cold city.

_ Stupid student loans. _

A faint scent of freshly baked cookies steams out from a nearby bakery, but the overwhelming aura of cold kills it almost instantly.

_ Stop being so negative. You can do this. What can you get for 29 dollars? Hmm... _

A single figure, clad in a light coat barely suitable for the cold chill of Ottawa. The street lamp flicker in his wake, a warm yellow amidst the blank white. The sound of pavement hollow and empty in the flood of thoughts in the boy’s head. There’s a scent of disappointment and self-hatred as if he never fully learned to love himself. Maybe from the void of his early life, or maybe from the loathing glare the demon inside gives him. 

But at least in this snowstorm, the boy finds a beautiful snowflake. One in a million. The same as the others, yet unexplainably different. Warm, while the others felt cold.

Just like his boyfriend.

The snowflake finally lands, on the nose of a concentrated boy. Before it melts, the snowflake takes a mental picture of the boy. A brown mop of hair, soft and sticking out at odd places. As it faded into nothing, the snowflake notes the dark bags under the boy’s eyes. Tired, world-weary and sad.

Suddenly, the boy stops, and the snowflake disappears. 

In a nearby shop window, a beautifully decorate guitar stares at the boy, with a price tag the boy knew he could never afford. And yet, it reminds him of his boyfriend, Mark, alone in his studio, all bundled up as his fingers strum a guitar too old to still be working properly. The boy remembers all of Mark’s offer to help financially. It ate at the boy, and he knew he could never take the offer. Too dependent, too much of a burden, too worthless––

_ Stop. _

The boy walks on, the guilt of not being able to do something nice for his favourite person in the world clawing at him. Sweet memories fill his head, and the boy tries to comfort himself. He thinks of Mark, all smiles and soft words. Mark, who calms him down just by merely existing.

The boy walks on, ignoring the second snowflake that landed on his eyelashes.

This one saw dried tears.

.

A snowflake is pressed against the window.

A boy stares at it, hand combing through his messy brown hair. His mind raced at a million miles an hour, clawing at itself to self destruct just mere seconds ago. He was never enough, too fragile to be in this harsh world. The boy then saw the snowflake, and the world stilled.

A snowflake, so dependent on the winds and world. A snowflake, something that can never truly create its own life. So fragile, so temporary, yet so beautiful.

“Yangie?” A voice calls out. The brown-haired boy looks away from the window, just as the world carried the snowflake away. He sees his beloved, standing a few feet away with a gigantic plushie in his arms. Smiling softly, Mark glides over to Yangyang on the couch. He sits down gently, and Yangyang tentatively reaches out for the present.

“You shouldn’t have.” He whispers, feeling his eyes water. How could he accept it, when he couldn’t even get Mark anything? He wasn’t enough, he wasn’t caring, he wasn’t anything––

“Stop.” Yangyang looks up, tears wetting his cheeks. He’s heard that word before, his mind repeating it like a prayer. But it sounds so different when Mark says it.

Because he actually stops thinking.

Rubbing their hands together, Mark pushes the big fluffy plushie into their arms. Yangyang vaguely recalls the pair in university, where Mark had been so tired one morning he came to class in pyjamas. Their meeting was due to sleep-deprived Mark needing notes from class. Yangyang remembers Past-Mark holding a ridiculous yet adorable cat plushie in his hands, before recalling how Mark had destroyed it one day. The streets, as it turns out, was not a good place for plushies.

And yet, an identical one sits in his arms right now.

“Yangie, look at me.” Mark coos gently, hands cupping the side of Yangyang’s face. Yangyang notes down how warm mark’s hand is, before meeting Mark’s gaze.

“I don’t care what kind of gift you give me, if anything at all. You being around most days is a better gift than anyone could ever give me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Yangyang sees a pair of snowflakes. So cold, so frigid, and so lonely. But in a world where the winds separate everyone, two snowflakes found each other.

Weeks, months, even years ago, the same question haunts Yangyang. 

“Why does he love me?”

Mark gives the same answer, always.

“Because you’re you.”

The snowstorm rages on outside, a million snowflakes flying about. Each of them more beautiful than the last. Each of them flying higher than the last, so they would be the ones to last through the winter. More reliable, more special, more loved. But the lonely snowflakes at the bottom would only find loneliness. None of them wanted to be buried under the snowbanks, drowned in every day. All of them pray for the snowstorms, where their winter could be a little more interesting. Inevitably, spring would come. They all want company for the journey, never wanting to touch the ground.

Together, stuck on the windowsill of love, a pair of snowflakes find each other. Together, they didn’t care about the snowstorm. Because love cared not about how high you fly or how beautiful your patterns are. Love cares about why you are in the storm. Love cares about whether or not the snowflakes were willing to stay on a window together, inevitably melting sooner.

Yangyang feels his tears drying, body feeling light and happy for the first time in forever. It was simply Mark’s effect. In the back of his mind, Yangyang wonders if he does the same to Mark. A single smile from mark would brighten his day, but Yangyang looks at his eyes today. Instantly, the snowstorm calms, and the pair of snowflakes nestle on a snowbank.

They’ll be okay.

Love made sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on Twitter @sunshine_kitcat


End file.
